Yalla Tnam
by owelpost
Summary: AU: Shepard rescues a child from the reaper ravaged base in Vancouver. She manages to safely reach the Normandy, but is forced to leave a man behind. All she knows is that she would much rather have Anderson aboard than a dirty, snot-nosed, frightened miniature human. The problem is that the kid is the only one on the ship that unconditionally loves her. Eventual Shep\Liara pairing
1. Chapter 1

Yalla Tnam

by owelpost

…

Tiny, sweat slicked-fingers tremble as they close over hers. As soon as Shepard snags the kid's hand, she does not let go. She swiftly drags the runt out of the ductwork and pulls her to her chest.

The child whimpers just before she presses her face against the soldier's neck. Shepard forgot how vulnerable children are. Did she ever know? She's never spent much time around miniature humans at all. In fact, they scare the crap out of her. Maybe she should just put it back?

No. The child's tears burn her neck.

Anderson shouts. As she starts to move, she doesn't have to worry about making sure the little one is secure in her arms; she's like a leech, stuck on Shepard. It might be impossible to extract her without some sort of exterior aid. Like salt.

Shepard shakes her head and the tiny person whimpers again.

"Shh. It's okay. I'll make sure you're safe," Shepard promises, although her voice is unsteady. She is unfazed by all the things with guns that are out to kill her, but she's stricken with fear by the presence of a child? Absurd!

When she reaches the admiral, she is impressed that he scarcely reacts. He tries to take the child from her, but the kid clings to her with unfathomable strength. The commander shakes her head, telling him without speaking that she's okay. She'll deal with this pint-sized burden on her own. He smiles tightly, gestures ahead of them, indicating a narrow passageway through rubble and debris.

They barely manage to rendezvous with the Normandy. Shepard shifts the little one's weight for better balance and jumps up onto the loading ramp. Lieutenant Vega, the beefy marine that has been guarding her cell since her incarceration after the alpha relay tragedy, helps her aboard.

Major Alenko is there too. Kaidan keeps his face impassive, but Shepard knows what he's wondering. Why is she hauling a child aboard the Normandy? She wonders herself as she catches her dog tags from Anderson and bids him good luck.

Small, trembling fingers close over the thin, shiny metal tags that dangle from the commander's fist. Shepard frowns. She would much rather have Anderson aboard than a dirty, snot-nosed, frightened child.

…

Liara dispatches the Cerberus soldiers quickly and with little finesse. She's been crawling through the ductwork, dirtying her pristine armour. If she didn't hate Cerberus before, that's enough of a reason right there.

There is a slight consolation. When she straightens and turns around, she is surprised to find Shepard there. Standing next to the commander is Kaidan. What she had with the man is long over, but Liara's heartbeat quickens anyway. She remembers well the feel of his rough hands—

_Who_ is that mountain beside Alenko?

Liara has to shake herself. She can't indulge wanton thoughts at a time like this, even if they do keep roiling terror at bay. When she finally meets Shepard's gaze, the commander's eyes are narrowed and she's scowling. Liara soothes the human's frown by stepping forward, gripping her by the elbow and drawing her into a tight embrace.

"Shepard, thank the goddess you are alive."

Shepard leans back, startled. She blushes furiously. "You too, Liara."

"I was so worried when the reports came in. I'm sorry… about Earth." The human's eyes flutter closed and her face twists for a fraction of a second; those who don't know her would miss the anguish there. Liara hugs her for a moment longer, trying to emphasize the sincerity of her words.

Then, regrettably, it's back to business. Cerberus needs schooling, after all, and Shepard isn't really there for Liara. She's there for the Prothean plans, under orders from Admiral Hackett. Liara tells them as much as she knows, trying to keep her eyes from straying to the hulk beside Shepard.

She decides she likes the way his hair is longer in a thin strip in the middle than it is at the sides. She can't wait to run her fingers through it.

…

Kaidan is laid out on the medical bed, crushed, bruised. Broken. Shepard stands over him, obviously in shock. Liara has never seen the commander like this, though she understands completely; she is barely holding herself together. At least Kaidan's handsome features are relaxed and not twisted in pain. That might have been too much.

Sucking in a breath, she says Shepard's name. The commander does not respond. Liara grabs her hand, leans down so their faces are close together. The human flinches. "Kaidan needs medical attention." Liara knows her voice is a little too insistent, her grip crushing. "We have to leave the Sol system!"

"I know."

"The Citadel is the best place to get help."

Shepard looks away. She directs a command at the ceiling. Liara sighs in relief. She still holds Shepard's hand, gentler now, as she touches Kaidan's cheek with her free hand. She can feel Shepard's eyes on her. When she looks up, the commander closes off her expression, removes her hand. Liara has no idea what she's thinking. All the human says is, "See what you and EDI can learn from that _thing_."

Liara looks at the soot and scorch marks covering the mech. She wrinkles her nose, knowing she's going to get dirtier than she already is by the time she's done. She really needs to learn not to wear her white lab coat when there's a possibility of Reaper invasion.

Movement beyond Shepard catches her attention, and Liara shifts to improve her sightline. A small human dressed in an oversized t-shirt, skinny brown legs poking out, stands in the middle of the medical bay. The child's beautiful, sienna eyes go round as she stares at Liara. It takes a moment for the strangeness of what Liara's seeing to wear off.

"Shepard—" Liara begins, cut off when an unfamiliar woman rushes into the room.

"I'm so sorry, Commander," the newcomer says in a flustered, accented rush, as she takes the child's hand. "She saw you come through the mess hall and she ran after you before I could stop her."

Shepard goes rigid. She looks as though she needs an escape. Liara hides a smile behind her hand. When she's sure she can control her amusement, she approaches the Alliance tech (judging by the badging on her uniform) holding onto the child. She hastily smiles at the tech before kneeling in front of the saucer-eyed youngster. "Hi sweetheart," she says. "I'm Liara. What's your name?"

The child does not answer; she merely continues to stare.

"She hasn't said anything since the commander rescued her," the tech explains.

Without warning, a small hand reaches out and touches Liara's face. It's hesitant, gentle, and Liara realizes that the little one has likely never seen an asari up close before, if at all. She carefully holds her arms out in invitation, moving slowly so as not to startle the girl. The child suddenly grins and rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Liara's waist. Lifting her, Liara glances at Shepard. The commander has gone pale. Liara presses her lips together to fight off another smile. Little fingers trace the ridges of her crest, tickling. Liara laughs.

"Specialist, I want you to make arrangements to leave, uhm… her at the citadel," Shepard says stiffly, before edging her way around everyone. The doors whoosh shut behind the commander and the tech visibly relaxes.

"Is she always so gruff?" she murmurs before catching herself.

Liara thinks she'll let the specialist discover the answer to that for herself. She shifts the little one, who now rests her head on the asari's shoulder, and extends her hand forward in traditional human greeting. "Dr. Liara T'Soni," she says.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Liara likes the way the specialist blushes; it's almost imperceptible against her caramel complexion. It's a refreshing change from the rugged marines that normally populate the Normandy. "Samantha Traynor. Alliance Communication Specialist." Her fingers, delicate and perfectly manicured, grip Liara's. Years ago, Liara researched the custom. She knows that the firmer the handshake, the more respect should be accorded. Traynor's grasp is solid and confident, despite what the rest of her body language indicates.

"Pleasure," Liara says.

"Uhm," the specialist's blush deepens, "Yes. Uhm, well, I suppose I should unburden you."

"I think she might be asleep," Liara says. Actually, she knows the child is sleeping. She can tell by the slow, even breaths that tickle the side of her neck. "Would it be all right if I held on to her for a little while?" She needs a healthy distraction to keep her mind off of Kaidan.

"I don't…" she stops, looks Liara over carefully. "I guess that's okay. It'll give me a chance to figure out who she is. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"Right. Okay. Thank you. I'll come back later for her, yeah?"

"Certainly. Take your time."

Traynor hesitates. Liara knows the specialist is disobeying orders; obviously, she's been given charge of the little one, and she's still unsure of how Shepard will react if the commander finds out she shirked her duty. So Liara smiles again, reassuringly. "Go on. If anything happens, I'll cover for you," she says and winks. The specialist's mouth opens slightly. She closes it, turns around, and scurries for the door.

Liara is still smiling as she settles herself at the computer terminal that used to belong to doctor Chakwas. She gently rubs the child's back and uses her free hand to fire up the system. "Just you, me, and the robot," she whispers.

…

_Author's Note_: I wanted to do something a little lighter to balance Glacial Fire, so this is what I came up with. Thanks to WordKrush and Midnight Lion for their input.


	2. Chapter 2

Too late.

By the time Shepard realizes the kid is in the mess—by the time the rugrat sees her—it's too late to make an escape. Regardless, Shepard hurriedly turns back towards the elevator. She could catch the doors if she is okay with losing her fingers. In the seconds considering that option takes, the elevator closes. She palms the control, leaving a sweaty handprint behind, and wishes willpower alone could open it.

She shifts from one foot to another as she decides what to do, the fingers of her left hand nervously pulling and twisting her lower lip. She wipes perspiration off her right hand on her pant leg.

It's not long before two small arms wrap tightly around her thigh as the little creature attaches itself to Shepard. She can't help but stiffen at the contact, her back going ramrod. She should probably do something, acknowledge it in some way. Awkwardly, Shepard reaches down and ruffles the kid's hair.

"Uh, hi." Shepard directs her words to the doors in front of her. The child responds by tugging on her leg.

The commander is known for her courage, her compassion. (Really? Shepard thinks that's a joke.) She casts about for these fabled traits, for some sort of inner strength, disappointed when all she finds is steady, rhythmic panic, building to an uncomfortable crescendo.

To make matters worse, _another_ set of arms wrap around her middle from behind. Liara rests her chin on Shepard's shoulder. The commander's face reddens and the top of her head feels as though it's about to pop off from the increased blood pressure.

"It looks like I've been replaced as your best friend," Liara teases in a confident tone. Her breath tickles Shepard's neck, sending pleasant shivers in every direction. Shepard closes her eyes and licks her lips, wondering why Liara insists on touching her like this. Doesn't the asari understand how crazy she makes Shepard?

Feeling trapped, the human takes a deep breath. She can bluff her way through this. She's done it before, when the stakes were much higher. She splays her fingers lightly over Liara's face and gently pushes her back. She feels Liara's nose flatten slightly into the middle of her palm, feels the lightest brush of the asari's lips.

"Garrus has always been my best friend," Shepard deadpans.

Liara laughs and squeezes Shepard again before releasing her. She moves to stand in front of the human, leaning against the traitorous elevator (which still hasn't returned). "Actually, I'd say Raina is."

"Uh, who-what now?"

Liara nods at the little one. Shepard chances a look. The side of the girl's face presses against the rough fabric of the commander's cargos. Her eyes are closed and she looks content. She's still wearing that ridiculously large Alliance t-shirt. It looks like a muumuu, but it's the best they could do. There aren't any children's clothes on the Normandy, and hers were ruined.

"Your specialist did her homework. She discovered the child's identity." The way Liara says 'specialist' makes Shepard's stomach plummet; the asari sounds like she's thinking about making Traynor her latest conquest.

"So… Raina?"

Liara nods. "Raina Khaladi. Her father is an Alliance soldier, stationed at the base where you were detained. Her mother is a chef, also working on base." The asari exhales slowly. Shepard instinctively covers the girl's exposed ear with her palm as Liara quietly continues. "Both are MIA, presumed KIA."

"Damn."

"Her refugee paperwork has been filed with the Citadel, as you requested." She sounds sad. The commander wonders if she's interpreting Liara's tone correctly. Shepard doesn't want to look at her face to confirm her suspicion.

"Good," Shepard says with more finality than she actually means. She frowns and forces herself to look at Liara. The asari folds her arms across her chest. She watches Shepard with an unreadable expression.

The commander takes a half step toward Liara before remembering her living, breathing anchor. Shepard stoops down and lifts the kid up. Raina snuggles against her chest and lets out a contented sigh. It's the first time Shepard's held the child since rescuing her. She didn't realize how slight she is; how tiny and innocent.

Liara smiles again, but more tightly, less carefree than when she'd teased the commander earlier. "We'll be at the Citadel soon," she says.

"Kaidan will be all right, Li," Shepard says, touching her friend's arm. Liara is more adept at hiding her feelings; she's had a hundred-some years of practice. Shepard thinks she does okay keeping her jealousy of the asari's past relationship with the major from broadcasting all over her face. It's easier when she reminds herself that Liara is a maiden, that it's natural for asari maidens to… embrace their sexuality. Shepard tries not to wonder why Liara never showed any interest in _her_—

She looks away from Liara's exquisite blue eyes.

"I know," Liara quietly replies.

Shepard feels relieved when the elevator doors _finally_ slide open. She attempts to free herself from Raina, but the child hugs her fiercely, proving stronger than she looks. Fighting back a renewed wave of panic, the commander looks desperately to Liara. "Got any salt?"

"What?"

"Leeches? Salt? No?" Liara blinks. Shepard shakes her head. "Never mind. Can you, uh, give me a hand?"

Liara fails to hide all of her grin. Perhaps Shepard was wrong about her friend's ability to mask her emotions. Liara touches the girl's back. "Will you let the commander go if she promises to come back later to play with you?"

Shepard's mouth falls open. Liara just threw her under the bus. When she sees the look on the asari's face, she narrows her eyes. Liara no longer hides her amusement. Shepard vows revenge for this trickery. Without taking her eyes off her 'friend', she mumbles to the girl, "I will see you soon."

For whatever reason, the child seems to find this compromise acceptable. Raina holds her arms out for Liara. The asari takes her, placing an affectionate kiss atop the child's unruly, brown locks as she hugs her.

"Liara," Shepard whispers, "don't get attached. She can't stay with us."

Suddenly, Liara's expression closes off completely. Shepard realizes she's said the wrong thing. With her heart dropping like a stone in her stomach, she enters the elevator. Maybe her stellar personality is the reason why Liara has never shown any interest in her.

Shepard curses her stupidity. 

* * *

_Author's Note: _So I have an actual plan for this story and I'm not just 'pantsing' it (thanks for that awesome term, WK!). My gratitude to WordKrush and Midnight Lion for their assistance with that _arduous_ task! Thanks to everyone for the reviews, I hope you continue to enjoy the story!


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard hates pissing Liara off. The asari is _definitely_ angry. Her posture, the rigid set of her shoulders make it evident. She grabs Shepard's wrist, jerks the commander closer. Her eyes narrow.

"I want you to reconsider," Liara demands in the tone of someone used to ordering people around, used to getting her way.

Shepard's gaze flicks to James. The big marine stands some distance away, holding Raina's hand as the pair wait for she and Liara to return. People crowd the Citadel. They dart around Shepard and her crew. A harried drell bumps into her as he rushes by, doesn't stop to apologize. Although they could all get lost in the bustle of this place's everyday happenings, she feels awkward and exposed.

"I do not take orders from you!" She regrets the words as she barks them. Liara flinches, drops her wrist. The commander softens her tone. "Look, I can do this on my own, if it's too hard for you." She does not remind Liara that she _told_ her not to get attached.

If looks could kill, Shepard would be dead. "My contacts say that the conditions in the refugee camp are awful, Commander," Liara says. The asari only ever calls Shepard by her rank when she's pissed. Or _hurt_. (After Benezia's death, Shepard was 'Commander' for a _long_ time.) "The Citadel is _not_ a better place for Raina than the Normandy."

"Alliance regulations do not permit children on—"

Liara steps toward her, angrily pokes her in the chest. "I don't give a damn about Alliance regulations!"

Shepard feels the sting of Liara's hurt. She wants to ease the asari's pain, but she _can't_ do this. "Stand down, Liara." Shepard regrets the command.

"What?"

"Stand down. Take Vega and check on Kaidan." Liara fidgets guilty when Shepard says the major's name, as if she's only just remembered she was supposed to be worried about him. "Make sure he's being taken care of. I'll find you later."

Liara looks apoplectic again. She wants to argue further, Shepard can tell. Instead she suddenly whirls and stalks toward the huge marine guarding the kid. The commander follows a good distance behind. They both stop when Liara reaches James and Raina, Shepard hanging back. The asari kneels in front of the little girl, hugs her fiercely, brushes her hair aside and kisses her forehead.

Liara stands, waits beside James, her rigid back turned on Shepard, shoulders squared, fighting to keep her emotions bottled up. The commander's chest feels like it's being compressed. She hopes Liara will eventually forgive her.

In an attempt to distract herself, Shepard watches the lieutenant. Out of one of his pockets, James pulls a plush bunny rabbit. He lifts Raina, presents her with the toy, and they start towards Shepard. Vega babbles as he walks, to keep the kid, or perhaps himself, preoccupied.

"Now that you're an admiral, I don't want you giving Commander Shepard any trouble. She's good at her job," Shepard overhears him say. When Raina sees her, she starts to wiggle in James' arms. He gives her one last hug before acknowledging Shepard with a salute.

Shepard nods. "Lieutenant."

He sets the child down, ruffles her hair and says, "I want you to take care of Ensign Fluffy for me, okay?" Raina's grin is her promise. James salutes her, too. "Admiral!" he barks playfully, and then leaves Shepard with the little monster clinging to her leg.

Shepard steals another look at Liara, watches the asari watch the massive marine as he returns to her. Liara's lips are slightly parted and her eyes are narrowed. (Shepard thinks their blue might be a little darker, too, but she can't really tell from this distance.) Liara doesn't look _as_ angry anymore. She looks… hungry?

Maybe the asari just needs food. Maybe her blood sugar is low and that's why she's so cranky. Shepard shakes her head and focuses instead on Raina. Shepard grumbles to herself as she picks the child up. Raina, as usual, says nothing. She's distracted by Ensign Fluffy.

…

Shepard's stomach drops when she reaches the docks holding area. If asked she will not admit to it.

The smell hits her first. Even before the elevator stops, the stench of so many different unkempt physiologies wafts up the shaft and into the cab. As soon as the doors open, she and Raina are assaulted by it. Shepard has smelled a lot of disgusting things; this stench takes the cake.

Raina wrinkles her nose a bit, but seems otherwise unfazed. Shepard might have to thank Lieutenant Vega for giving her the ensign, because so far the bunny has made Shepard's life infinitely easier.

A human administrator bustles around behind a couple of turians at the registration counter. His back is to her, but his body type and the way he moves seem familiar. She sets Raina down on the counter and holds her in place with one hand while she tries to get the man's attention. One of the turians takes pity on her, reaches back and taps the man on the shoulder.

The man turns, angry at the interruption. When she sees who it is, Shepard takes an involuntary step back.

…

"_Shepard!"_

_She's never had a first name as far as her father is concerned. The only thing he's ever been concerned with is _results_. And that their name—__**their name!**__—never be dragged through the dirt._

"_What is this?"_

_Shepard looks at her feet. "It's a chemistry lab, Dad."_

_He shakes his fist. The paper he's holding flutters in her face. He grabs her chin, forces her to look at him. His eyes bulge out of his face. "This is covered in red pen, Shepard! You were given a D minus! That is __**unacceptable**__!"_

_She sighs, not daring to look away. Looking away means he'll probably cuff her upside the head. She knows that he takes her education seriously. Anything that jeopardizes that is considered sacrilege to him. He's not above poking her or giving her a slap if he thinks she's not paying attention. But this horrible lab thing—it's beyond her control and __**so**__ not worth the discomfort._

"_I'm no good at chemistry," she mumbles. She can't explain to him that she's never been the academic he wants her to be. She has to work three times as hard as the other kids just to get the marks she does—to keep him happy. It doesn't matter that she had to sell her VR console (the one she wasn't allowed to have in the first place) to scrape together enough money to secretly hire a chem tutor. She didn't want him to know she was failing. But it didn't help. She just _does _**not**__ get it._

"_You're grounded for a week!" he shouts._

_Being grounded isn't so bad. It's not like Shepard has time to go out, anyway, with all the extra studying she has to do. _

…

"Can I help you?"

Raina tugs on her arm, bounces Ensign Fluffy off her cheek. Blinking, Shepard thoughtlessly bats the toy away.

This man is not her father. The resemblance is uncanny; his brown hair is buzzed close to the scalp and he has piercing green eyes. The difference is that the man before her isn't as physically fit as her father. Dr. Shepard considered physical fitness as important as mental fitness, which meant they followed a regimented routine. This man's middle is too soft.

"Listen, lady, I'm busy here. Tell me what you want, or buzz off!"

Ensign Fluffy reappears in her sightline. Shepard glances down to see Raina looking up at her, her eyes bright with concern. She grips Fluffy loosely in both of her little fists, arms outstretched, offering the toy.

"You can keep it," Shepard says. Raina frowns, hugs the rabbit in the crook of her arm. Her lower lip quivers.

The man behind the counter rudely clears his throat, crosses his arms over his chest. Shepard looks from him to Raina. Instead of acknowledging him, Shepard grabs the girl from the countertop. Before she knows it, she's sprinting back to the elevator. She needs to get away from this place. It's loud, it stinks, and Liara's right—damn her!

It's no place for Raina.

…

_Author's Note_: Thanks to WordKrush and Midnight Lion for their input!


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: _The following contains mature content. Reader discretion is advised.

…

"Whoa, Indy! Gotta stop you right there."

Liara has no idea what the title James gave her means, but she likes the way it sounds. She slides her hand into his hair, ignores his protest. She's been dying to do that since she first saw him. The shorter hairs are stiff and bristly, abrading her fingertips. The longer ones are surprisingly luxurious.

The look on his face tells her that even though they have shared several pitchers of beer, his wits remain about him. Good. She likes that alcohol does not dull his intelligence. It would be easy to underestimate the marine, given that brawny humans are often construed as imbecilic, given how easily he smiles, given his kindness, but Liara does not miscalculate.

James is a wonderful diversion; she does not want to think about how difficult Raina's departure had been, how much she _already_ misses the little girl. With the lieutenant she can get lost in physical sensation and let the subtle buzz of alcohol wash away her emotions.

She places her free hand on his knee, squeezes, inches it slowly up his thigh. He inhales sharply, puts his fingers over hers, heavy and temporarily preventative. The observation deck is empty save for the two of them. Most of their shipmates are either on leave, bunked down, or part of the skeleton crew keeping the Normandy operational. Liara is reasonably certain they will be alone for some time.

"I've heard about you," James teases.

Liara raises a brow, doesn't resist an amused grin. "You've been talking to Joker."

James shakes his head. He frees her hand, leans back to study her face. "Look, you're—" Liara slides her newly liberated hand further up his thigh. His eyes widen. "Indy," the word, whatever it means, _definitely _sounds sexy in his breathless accent, "if you don't stop this, I'm not…" His takes a breath. "I'm not gonna." He says it with finality, as though he'd previously weighed honor against temptation. He's been nothing short of respectable. Liara doesn't want his restraint.

She leans close enough to smell his musk. "Do you always talk this much?" she asks, letting her lips graze against his ear.

His eyes snap shut. "Yeah."

"If you've heard about me, then you know what this is." She removes her hand from his thigh, the other from the back of his head. She shifts until she's straddling him. She knows he's erect, but she avoids the bulge. She controls the situation—nothing happens until she allows it. His eyes, dark with desire, watch her. He puts his hands on her hips, but doesn't move them. He seems content to follow her lead.

She starts with his chest, running her fingers over his soft, tight Alliance t-shirt, down the firm ridges of his abdomen. She makes a fist in the fabric above the belt he wears, and jerks the shirt out of his pants. She slips her hands beneath the fabric and feels silky skin over hard-packed muscles. She moans when they ripple in response to her touch. He's unbearably ripped.

She needs _more_ of him.

Her fingers tremble with anticipation as she tugs at his belt. She tries to go slow, struggles to master the tempo of her rampant heartbeat. It's been too long since her last sexual encounter. Now that she has the big marine beneath her, Liara finds she does not have complete command over herself. She cannot undo the goddess-damned buckle!

James shares her frustration; he moves her hands aside and unhooks the accessory for her. Pushing the halves out of the way, he pops the button of his pants. She licks her lips, momentarily distracted by the way his shirt rides up. She can see the barest hint of a groomed line of hair.

While she's preoccupied James bodily lifts her, grasping her backside. His mouthwatering biceps bunch and stretch fluidly as he repositions her so that she sprawls on the couch. He hunches over her, one hand splayed on the back of the sofa, the other still cupping her bottom. He settles the bulk of his weight on one knee, between her legs. He leans down.

Liara realizes he intends to kiss her.

She redirects his attention by reaching down to tug her own shirt out of her pants. She discarded her jacket before inviting him to sit on the couch with her, expecting to get deliciously messy. She wears only a white undershirt over her bra. Liara draws the garment up, trailing her fingers over the flat planes of her stomach. She shivers at her own touch.

"Santo Dios!" James hisses while he watches. His big chest rises and falls with every anticipatory breath.

Liara does not stop—she cannot stop. She retraces her way back down her body until she reaches the clasp of her pants. She unfastens them deliberately, spreads the fly wide. She slides her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. Then lower. Agonizingly lower. She dips a finger between her swollen folds, feels the slick heat.

She arches her back in pleasure. James takes advantage. He curls his fingers in the band of her pants, catching her underwear. He yanks. Both garments come down, leaving her completely exposed. James shoves himself up, balancing on one knee while he puts his other foot on the floor. His fingers hurriedly jerk his own fly down. Liara wiggles, shimmies her pants to her ankles so she can slip them off. James awkwardly pushes his down before he shucks his shirt.

Liara tilts her head back, watches him through narrowed eyes. He doesn't bother to remove his boxers before he repositions himself between her thighs. She uses slippery fingers to tease her way into his shorts, freeing his impressive shaft. He leans down, considerate enough not to settle his entire bulk on top of her. Needing him, she directs James' erection to her opening. He hovers there, hesitating.

She's on the verge of begging him to fuck her, but his face twists uncertainly. She bites back frustration, forces calmness. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not… you're not… uh, gonna get pregnant, are you?"

Most asari would be turned off by the human's naivety, but Liara finds the deep blush that crawls over his face endearing. She grins. "That's not what this is," she answers.

She wraps her arms around him and draws him against her—into her.

…

_Note #2_: Reviews and _**constructive criticism**_, as always, are appreciated. Thanks once again to Midnight Lion and WordKrush for their assistance. And to Caracal22 for cheering me on! (If you have not read her stuff, I think you should go do so immediately! Like right now! Go. Shoo!)


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